𝙊𝙋𝙃𝙀𝙇𝙄𝘼 𝙇𝙔𝙉𝘾𝙃'S fury was a storm that broke loose the second she saw her sister go down. Without a second thought, she mistook 𝙅𝙊𝙃𝙉𝙉𝙔 𝙆𝘼𝙑𝘼𝙉𝘼𝙂𝙃 for the culprit and decided he deserved a dose of his own medicine. Grabbing the rugby ball, she launched it back at him with a force that was all raw, righteous anger. Johnny saw her, and in that moment, the entire world outside of her seemed to fade away. He was a boy who lived and breathed the game, but her sheer intensity pulled his attention off the pitch. It wasn't her body he noticed first, but her eyes-the color of whiskey, sharp and defiant, framed by dark lashes that contrasted with the soft, rebellious pink in her hair. He noticed the way she swallowed hard, as if choking down words she couldn't dare to speak, and the way her jaw tightened before she unleashed a snarky remark at his best friend, Gibsie. He was captivated. But he knew, with a certainty that was both thrilling and terrifying, that girls like her came with a warning label. They were the ones who broke you and then laughed as you bled. Still, a dangerous instinct told him that to let her walk away would be a regret he'd carry forever. ♱ ᴏᴘʜᴇʟɪᴀ ʙʀɪᴅɢᴇᴛ ᴍᴜʀᴘʜʏ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴀꜰꜰᴀɪʀ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ʙᴇᴀᴛᴇɴ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴜᴛᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ʜᴇʀ ᴏᴡɴ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ. ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴏᴜɴɢ ɢɪʀʟ ᴡʜᴏ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴅᴏɢ. ꜱʜᴇ ʙɪᴛᴇꜱ ᴅᴏᴡɴ! ꜱʜᴇ ᴇᴀᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ! ʙᴜᴛ ꜱʜᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴄᴀʀᴇᴅ, ᴄʀʏɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴀʏɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ! ♱

Charlotte Lynch has two rules: Stay quiet and stay alive, somehow. Her home life is not easy and trying to balance out while forced to attend Tommen is not as well. After losing the only boy and girl who ever understood her, she enters Tommen with nothing left but a heartbeat that hurts to feel and a sister she'd burn the world for. She keeps her sleeves long, her voice quiet, and her hope buried. Tommen is bright. Charlotte is not. Charlotte doesn't want friends. She doesn't want attention. She definitely doesn't want to feel anything. But a certain loud, funny blonde rugby boy seems to have other plans. How will it go? Gerard Gibson x Female oc All rights to Chloe Walsh, Boys of tommen. >_< Impressive rankings: 🥇In Shannon lynch 30/11/2025 🥇In Gerard Gibson 5/12/2025 🥇In boys of tommen 26/12/2025 🥇In bot 26/12/2025 🥇In trauma 3/1/2026

𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙛 𝘽𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙖 𝙒𝙞𝙡𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙖 𝙙𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙙 𝘾𝙞𝙖𝙧𝙖, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙅𝙤𝙚𝙮 𝙇𝙮𝙣𝙘𝙝'𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙣, 𝘼𝙅? ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ AJ LYNCH x fem! oc AJ Lynch is a boy that seems to have a knack for helping those around him. This seems to be related directly to his family. He's gained his parents worst traits with his mother's stubbornness and his father's hot-headed temper. What will happen when he learns that the girl he's been slowly falling for has a secret that has a direct correlation to his father? Ciara Wilkinson-Bryne is a girl that is only trying to make it to her leaving cert. Growing up in an abusive household, everything seems to be her fault, even down to her existence. Ciara is always willing to stay back in the shadows and just go along with life. That all changes when her math partner seems to never stop trying to figure her out. What will happen when everything blows up, for the chance of good? ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ "𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓, 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓, 𝒊𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏. 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆. 𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑." - 𝐏𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧 & 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐋𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐲 𝐌𝐜𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞

Aidan Feely. One of the most mysterious lads I've ever come across. He's got this quiet, brooding energy, like he's always a step removed from the chaos around him. Tall and lean, with that messy, dark hair that always seems perfectly tousled, as if he's just rolled out of bed and still somehow looks better than half the school. His green eyes - God, those eyes - sharp and intense, like he can see straight through you. I know boys are meant to be handsome, rugged, all that, but Aidan is just... beautiful. Long, dark lashes that half the girls in school would kill for, and a jawline that looks like it was carved from marble. He never says more than he has to, rarely smiles, and when he does, it's this rare, fleeting thing that makes my heart skip a beat. And I'm falling. Hard. But there's a problem. A massive one. I have a boyfriend. And he's nothing like Aidan. *** Sophie Quinn. The girl I've been losing my mind over for the past year. She's this whirlwind of chaos and laughter, the type of girl who lights up a room just by walking into it. She's got that wild, curly hair that never quite does what it's told, a laugh that echoes around the halls, and these eyes - bright and full of life - that catch the light in the best possible way. But here's the kicker - she has a boyfriend. Some tosser who doesn't deserve her. I see him around, loud and arrogant, one of those lads who thinks the world owes him something just because he can kick a ball straight. And it grates at me. I catch him throwing his arm around her, whispering in her ear, and it takes everything in me not to pull him off and tell him to keep his hands to himself. Not that I'd ever say it out loud, but I want her. More than I should. And I know she's starting to notice. The way I lean in a bit closer when she talks, the way my gaze lingers when she brushes past me. She's catching on, I can feel it. And I don't care about her boyfriend, not even a little. Because in the end, I'm going to have her.

Mike Biggs-the most handsome boy in Tommen. Bit of a gentleman, but he knows how to shut people up when needed. Never thought we'd be close, but after what happened with Sinead-his little sister and my best friend-things shifted. Do I like it? Can't say for sure. He's different when it's just the two of us. Softer. Kinder. But right now, I don't have time for love. I need to focus on becoming like my ma, playing in the orchestra. That's what matters. Not Mike Biggs and whatever this is between us... right? Bridget Feely-shy, sweet, and has this quiet kind of beauty that sneaks up on you. We've been friends for a while, and maybe-just maybe-I've thought about her as more than that. But I never let myself dwell on it. Until I heard her play the violin. Christ, I had no idea she could play like that. Now? Now I can't stop thinking about her. The way she looks when she plays, the way the music seems to carry her somewhere else. And just like that, I'm completely gone for the girl.

Brian O'Neill. The coldest fella Tommen's has ever seen-or so they say. And I get it. He walks down the halls like he owns the place, never says much unless he has to, face like it's carved out of marble, always unreadable. He's like a winter prince-untouchable, a bit terrifying, and way too beautiful to be real. But he's mine. He's my boyfriend. He makes my heart beat like a bloody war drum every time he so much as looks at me with that stormy gaze of his. Protective to a fault. He'd burn the whole world down if it meant keeping his siblings safe. They're everything to him-his whole bleeding heart, even if he acts like he hasn't got one. And he fights. Not schoolyard scuffles. Not rugby scraps. I'm talking about underground, illegal fights. The kind you don't talk about. The kind you pray he walks away from. *** Daisy Biggs. If sunshine had a body and a runway walk, it'd be her. She's Ireland's it girl-covers of magazines, Vogue campaigns, CHANEL deals before she was even out of third year. Everyone knows her name. Every girl wants to be her, and every lad stares a bit too long when she walks past. But she's mine. She's my girlfriend. Yeah-me. The cold bastard with blood on his knuckles and bruises under his hoodie. I don't know how I pulled her, honest to God. Maybe 'cause she sees something in me no one else bothers to look for. But we keep it quiet. No one at Tommen's knows. Can't risk the papers finding out, or the other students. She's soft with me. Gentle in a way that makes me forget I've got cuts across my ribs or a busted lip. When I show up to her place, bleeding or shaking or just not right in the head after a fight, she never freaks. She just pulls me in, cleans me up, and wraps her arms around me like I'm something worth saving. I know she hates the fights. Hates what they do to me. Hates what I have to do to win. But what am I supposed to do? When you've got a da who treats you like a weapon, you learn real quick that choices are a luxury.

Conor Kavanagh. The heartthrob of Tommen College. The biggest playboy in the school - cocky smirk, rugby jersey practically sewn onto him, always with a smart comment and that maddening wink. He's friendly, charming, flirty as hell. The kind of lad who'd carry your bag for you and somehow make it seem like your idea. But don't let that fool you - he's trouble. All sharp jawlines and swagger. And somehow, he's decided I'm his next bloody charity case. I hate it. I hate how he shows up when I don't ask, how he looks at me like I'm breakable. I don't need saving - I've got it sorted. The drink, the pills, the temper - all of it. My mess, not his. And every time I tell him to back off, to leave me be, he just gets closer, like I'm speaking in code. I don't need his pity or his perfect face. I don't need him. So why does part of me keep hoping he'll show up again tomorrow? *** Sinead Biggs. The reigning queen of Tommen. Sharp-tongued, sharp-eyed, and terrifying in heels. Everyone thinks she's just Cath's little sister - until she opens her gob and makes half the school cry before lunch. She walks those halls like she owns them, and honestly? She kind of does. The lads are scared of her. The girls want to be her. And me? I'm hopelessly, pathetically into her. Everyone knows it. My mates won't shut up about it. Even when she's tearing strips off me with that mouth of hers, I'm there grinning like a gobshite. Because deep down, I remember. I remember when we used to be best friends. When she used to laugh like a lunatic at my stupid jokes, when her hand would brush mine and neither of us would move away. But then came Owen Rice - the prick. Then came that night. The accident. The hospital. And when she came back, she wasn't the same. She'd built up walls with barbed wire. She'd become someone colder, louder, crueler. But I still see her. The girl I knew. And every once in a while, when no one's looking, I think she sees me too.

Finn Gibson. Number seven on the rugby team. A gentleman, proper like. Always opening doors and saying things like "after you" and "you alright there?" in this soft voice that somehow makes you feel seen. He's funny too - not the show-off type of funny, more the kind where you're halfway through laughing before you realise it was even a joke. Real clever wit, quiet like. It's not fair, honestly. And he drums, like actually properly drums, not just tapping out rhythms on the school desk like every other lad in Tommen. He's in a band and all. Do I like him? Yeah. I like him loads. More than I should. But this isn't that kind of story. I come from a house where everything's heavy. Where things crack and break and no one says sorry. Where nice things don't last, and if you want something - really want something - it gets used against you. You don't let your heart out in a place like mine. You learn to nod and keep quiet and do what Da says, even when you hate it, even when it's wrong. That's just how it is. So when Finn looks at me like I matter - really, properly matter - I want to believe it. I want to tell him I think about him when I fall asleep. So yeah. I like Finn Gibson. But liking someone like him... it feels like trying to hold light in your hand. Beautiful. Impossible. *** Mina O'Neill. Jesus, I don't even know where to start with her. She's the most beautiful human being I've ever seen in my life, and I mean that with my whole chest. She moves like she doesn't even touch the ground. A ballerina, and not the stuck-up kind either. She's always working, always rehearsing, and when she talks about dance, it's like watching someone light up from the inside. And me? I'm just... me. Watching her from the side of things. Hoping. I think she knows. I know she knows. She's not daft. But there's something holding her back. I don't know what. Maybe it's me. Maybe it's something in her life I don't see. But I'm not giving up.

Short stories after binding/keeping 13. (JOHNNY AND SHANNON)

After spending a year and a half living in Paris running her fashion brand Kavanaghs, Órlaith Kavanagh finally returns home, nervous to reconnect with the life and people she left behind. But once she's back, she quickly realizes that not everything is the same as when she left. In particular, she can't help but notice that Gibsie, her brother Johnny's best friend, seems different-older, changed somehow, in a way that catches her attention more than she expected. #1-booktok #3-hughiebiggs